


Stillness

by fabrega



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega
Summary: The feeling sneaks up on him.(a piece for The Reaper Zine)





	Stillness

**Author's Note:**

> This fic originally appeared in The Reaper Zine! Thanks again to everyone involved. ♥

The feeling sneaks up on Gabe.

Gabe Reyes is not a man who has time for feelings. He is not a man who slows down. He can take his time, if and when the circumstances call for it, but for the most part his life has been a straight line from one thing to the next, straight through any problems that may stand in his way. He'd joined the Army, and from there the Soldier Enhancement Program, and from there jumped directly into the Crisis. Sure, the line had taken some unexpected twists and turns, but his path and his drive remained the same: a better, safer world, the best way Gabe knows how.

It's sort of a relief when the UN gives Morrison the Strike Commander position after the Crisis. Jack's got the face for it, the people skills, the patience to deal with the sort of bureaucracy that the UN seems to have in mind for their new kinder, gentler Overwatch. Gabe's given Blackwatch--he _takes_ Blackwatch--and he keeps moving forward, never stopping, never slowing down.

He builds Blackwatch from the ground up, recruits the best people, does the hard work and keeps the world safe, no matter his feelings, no matter the cost. He has to keep moving forward, because there's no time to stand still.

The feeling hits him, though, in a rare still moment. He's in the mission control room, watching a team of Blackwatch agents on the flycams. McCree is there with him, on the comms, guiding the agents though the exfiltration _._ McCree says _just like we planned_ into the mic, and he looks back at Gabe and grins, and the feeling hits Gabe: he's done it. He'd spent so much time trying to get to this point, to where he could maybe finally slow down, to where his work--not _the_ work, but _his_ work--might be less necessary, where it might be not entirely his responsibility. Where he could stop, for even just a moment.

What would _that_ be like?

He's spent so long trying to get here that he's not sure what to do now.

He steps closer to the screens, closer to McCree, puts a hand on McCree's shoulder and smiles. McCree startles a little, first at the touch and then, when he looks back, at Gabe's smile. But then he relaxes under Gabe's touch, his broad shoulders easing back into their usual confident slouch. He smiles back at Gabe.

The feeling stays with Gabe through the rest of the mission, as they watch the Blackwatch agents find their target and remove them to safety, leaving a trail of mayhem and dead bodies in their wake. It stays with him through his debrief with the Strike Commander, where he gives the usual sanitized version of events and Jack doesn't ask too many questions. It stays with him through the evening and into the night, when he sits on the edge of the bed and stares down at his hands and thinks about everything he's done to get here.

*

The feeling sneaks up on Reaper.

To be fair, most feelings sneak up on Reaper these days. Annoyance, he's very familiar with. Rage, he's got a handle on. Everything else--doubt, grief, the occasional flicker of tenderness--is confusing and unwelcome, something Reaper doesn't quite know how to process.

He isn't supposed to have feelings. Moira had said it's a side-effect of the treatment they've been giving him to keep him alive, since the explosion. Feelings other than anger are something he's supposed to report to his doctor, a symptom to be treated, not a sensation to be felt, not a thing to be actively experienced.

He remembers the explosion, but only vaguely. He remembers being pulled from the debris, Moira looking down at him, her brow creased with what he's fairly certain was concern. He's been the Reaper for longer than that, though, and the explosion isn't important, not really. Overwatch was already on its way out, and all its ending did was free him to work more openly for Talon.

In the still moments, between missions, he thinks: he ought to feel satisfied about that, right? He's achieved what he's been working towards, and surely a sense of satisfaction about Talon's mission isn't something Talon wants to deprive him of. But no, an empty feeling sits where that satisfaction should be, not a feeling so much as a lack of one. The anger seeps into the space it leaves, and Reaper lets it fuel him.

So the feeling, when it hits him, is a surprise. He's so used to anger and emptiness that when he feels the wave of dissatisfaction, of _regret_ , it nearly knocks him off his feet. It makes him lose his train of thought, which would be fine if he wasn't surrounded by people with guns. He hesitates, and one of them takes the shot; he turns to smoke on reflex and smacks the guy with the butt of his shotgun before shooting him in the face and quickly taking care of the rest.

On the comms, Sombra asks: _what was that?_

Reaper wishes he knew. Something about this mission doesn't feel right, but when he pauses to interrogate the feeling, it's not--it's not about this mission, somehow, not specifically. This mission has gone just like they'd planned, nothing amiss. So why does he feel like this?

The feeling stays with Reaper through the rest of the mission, as they kill the rest of the enemies between them and Talon's objective. It stays with him on the ride back to the Talon base, where he gives his report and very pointedly does not mention the way he had faltered. It stays with him when Sombra pulls him aside afterwards--daring, even for her--and asks him again what had happened.

He pulls her even further aside, into a room he knows Talon isn't watching, and asks her: _does any of this feel wrong to you?_

He doesn't know what to do with the look she gives him in return.

*

The feeling sneaks up on Reyes.

Reyes isn't used to his feelings yet, not really. After so much time spent in Talon not having them, or ignoring them, having feelings that he listens to is a novel and uncomfortable proposition. He's left Talon, and Moira, and their insistence that he not feel what his gut was telling him; he's emerged from the darkened room of Talon and is standing, blinking, in the metaphorical light.

The feeling, when it arrives and he stays still long enough to recognize it, to acknowledge it, to examine it, is _home_. At first that doesn't seem like a _feeling_ at all, more a location, more a _place_ \--and if it is a place, it certainly isn't a place like this, one of Sombra's old hideouts. The three of them are hidden here from not just Talon but everyone, as far off the grid as they can get; that doesn't sound like _home_. But the longer he thinks about it, the more he looks around at Sombra and McCree and the hidden corner they've found themselves in, the more right it feels. If anywhere is home, it's this. If anyone is home, it's these people, who helped him save himself from Talon, who are here despite everything. They believed in him. They're _here_.

It's a strange feeling.

He knows they can't stop running, not in the long term, maybe not even now. Talon is coming after them, and Talon is relentless. But maybe they can _stop_ , just for this moment.

He walks across the room, puts a hand on McCree's shoulder, anchoring himself to right here and right now. McCree reaches up to put a hand over his; across the room, Sombra snorts fondly.

He thinks about everything he's done to get here. For maybe the first time in his life--his _lives_ \--he thinks about his feelings, about himself. He feels himself smile.


End file.
